


Voices

by Art3misiA



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Divergence, Fairest of the Rare's Sing Me a Rare 2020, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:20:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26595136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Art3misiA/pseuds/Art3misiA
Summary: No matter what Bellatrix did, she could not escape the voices - especially not Pandora's. But whatispower, really?Anarchy Theme: The Illusion of power; include Occlumency/LegilimencyRunner up in category: Best Thriller
Comments: 36
Kudos: 27
Collections: Sing Me a Rare: UK Invasion!





	Voices

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Sing Me a Rare: The UK Invasion. Much love to my beta HollyBrianne and alpha Charlie9646!
> 
> Also thanks to Charlie9646 for the amazing Manip <3
> 
> **Song Prompt **– See You on the Other Side - Ozzy Ozbourne****

* * *

**  
_  
May 1980_ **

Pandora stirred; something had pulled her from her trance. She listened carefully. The sound of the cellar door unlocking must have been what alerted her. Footsteps. A woman, because the steps were sharp, made by heels. Bellatrix.

As her captor neared the bottom of the stairs, Pandora shifted herself from her foetal position on the stone floor and sat upright, tucking her bare feet under the dirty hem of her robes. She wasn’t sure how long she had been held in the Lestrange manor, but she supposed it must have been at least a few days, perhaps a week. With no source of light - other than the few constantly burning sconces - to guide her and no regular routines or other clues to help her break up the time, it was impossible to tell. 

Finally, Bellatrix arrived at the door of the cell and stared disdainfully through the bars. 

Pandora offered a friendly smile. “Hello, Bellatrix. I hope you are well?”

“Shut up and tell me what I want to know.”

“What would you like to know today? Your fortune? Or perhaps a winning recipe for onion soup? I have lots of lovely recipes passed down from my grandmother, you know. Wonderful for warding off negative spirits, colds, bad luck, and all manner of small creatures.”

“Stupid woman! Tell me what you know about the Order of the Phoenix!”

_This, again?_ Pandora shook her head gently, still smiling. “My dear Bellatrix, I have already told you. I am not a member of the Order, and neither is my husband. I have no information about their operation that is not already public knowledge.” She paused to consider. “Given they are a rather secretive organisation, very little is known about them, and what _is_ known is more likely to be conjecture and guessing than the truth.”

“For someone who claims to know nothing, he certainly writes a lot of articles in their support,” Bellatrix countered. “And he has the gall to openly criticise the Dark Lord, besides! You’re lying!” She flicked her wand to open the cell door and stepped inside, then crouched in front of Pandora, holding eye contact.

_“Legilimens.”_

She could feel Bellatrix probing at her mind, yanking open doors and peering into the recesses of her thoughts. Should she put up her Occlumency shields? She did so hate this sensation; it was very unpleasant. Nevertheless, she supposed she should let the other witch proceed so she could prove her family’s lack of involvement with the Order.

Abruptly, Bellatrix withdrew, her face twisted in disgust. “You’re with child.”

Pandora had suspected, but with no access to her wand, had been unable to cast any diagnostic spells to confirm it.

“I rather thought I was,” she replied. “I do hope there has been no damage. You did _Crucio_ me a time or two.”

Her captor stood, turned on her heel, and stomped from the cell, slamming the door. It made a resounding _clang_ that echoed around the small room as she headed towards the stairs.

“Bellatrix.”

She looked over her shoulder, flicking her thick black curls, a scowl marring her aristocratic features. “What?”

“Power is just an illusion, you know. You can get drunk off it. It dulls your senses and your wits the same as firewhisky does. You should be careful. Men like Voldemort use power to corrupt and control.”

“You dare say his name!” she shrieked. She raised her wand, fury blazing in her dark eyes.

“I’d really rather you didn’t use _Crucio_ ,” Pandora said softly, placing a hand on her abdomen. 

Bellatrix’s lip curled in a snarl. For a moment she was sure she would strike regardless, but after a moment’s hesitation, she dropped her arm to her side.

“Thank you.”

Muttering, Bellatrix stormed up the stairs and out of sight.

Some time later, the cellar door was opened once again. From the heavy, flat footsteps, Pandora surmised it was one of the Lestrange brothers who now approached. Likely Rodolphus. 

Ahh yes. She had been correct. Bellatrix’s husband glared in at her. He was a heavyset man, tall, strong, and imposing. Wordlessly, he unlocked the cell door and gestured with an irritated wave of his arm for her to move forward. She got slowly to her feet, wincing slightly at the pains that shot through her body. Although she had tried to keep moving as much as the limited space allowed, her muscles were sore and stiff from the constant chill and having to sleep on the hard stone floor.

“Hurry up, witch,” Rodolphus growled. “I haven’t got all day.” 

“My apologies,” Pandora said as she shuffled through the doorway. “Where are we going?”

“Don’t ask questions. Just move.” He gave her a rough shove in the small of her back, urging her in the direction of the stairs. 

Pandora climbed steadily, not hurrying, not dawdling. Just moving. They reached the top and Rodolphus shouldered her aside, opened the door, grabbed her arm, and dragged her along a dim corridor. After a few moments, he pushed open a second door and led her through an equally dim kitchen, out yet another door, and into a large, open room that blazed with light.

After being in darkened conditions for so long, the natural light blinded Pandora and caused her eyes to burn. She stumbled but managed to regain her balance, only to be shoved unceremoniously to the floor. It took a while for her eyes to adjust, but once she could see again, she looked around in interest. She was in what appeared to be a drawing room. It was grand and immaculately clean, but held an air of neglect, as if it saw little use.

“Bella!” Rodolphus barked.

A door at the opposite end of the room opened and Bellatrix appeared. She looked down at Pandora with an expression of loathing, then at her husband. 

“I fetched her. Now you can get rid of her,” he said. Without another word, he exited the door Bellatrix had entered from.

The dark-haired witch rolled her eyes, then flicked her wand. Instantly, Pandora was tightly bound. A second flick caused her eyes to be covered with a cloth, rendering her blind again. She could hear Bellatrix approaching and hoped she was not about to be taken before Voldemort. Anything, anything but that. She could remain stoic and upbeat in the face of all other obstacles, but she privately feared she would not have what it took to stand before the evil man himself. For Voldemort, chasing the illusion of power had already poisoned him past the point of healing. He discarded people like empty sweet wrappers, so profound was his disregard for human life.

Bellatrix grabbed Pandora roughly by the arm, and she felt the pull of Apparition. They landed and then Apparated twice more before she finally relinquished her grip. Between the rapid, repeated Apparition and her condition, her nausea overcame her. Pandora vomited, trying to remain on her side to avoid soiling herself.

“Disgusting!” she heard Bellatrix exclaim.

Finally, the retching subsided. Pandora rolled onto her back, hoisting herself into a sitting position, though it was difficult to do while bound and hurt her stomach. Concentrating, she focused on the sound and feel of her surroundings, and her heart soared. She was home! They had landed just beyond the wards. Although she had tried to remain positive throughout her ordeal, choosing to believe the Lestranges would eventually release her, another voice inside her whispered dark things. It told her they would tire of her and eventually torture her into insanity, or kill her outright.

Pandora felt the bindings loosen, followed by the blindfold. She blinked in the sun, turning her face up to its warm and welcoming light. Getting to her feet, she turned to Bellatrix, who was watching with a strange expression on her face. “Thank you for bringing me home,” she said. “Xeno will be thrilled to see me. I can’t wait to share my news with him.” 

“Tell him if he wants to keep your family safe, he will stop speaking out against the Dark Lord,” Bellatrix threatened. “What we will do next time will make your imprisonment in my cellar look like a holiday.”

“I believe you,” Pandora answered with as much sincerity as she could muster. “Xeno will be unhappy, but I’m sure he will do as I ask. If it’s not too much trouble, may I be reunited with my wand?”

With a sniff, Bellatrix reached into her robes and withdrew Pandora’s wand, throwing it at her feet. She bent to pick it up, sighing happily as she felt its familiar magic thrumming through her. When she stood again, the other witch had her own wand pointed at Pandora’s heart. 

“So suspicious, Bellatrix. Fear not. I have no plans to engage you in combat. I much prefer peace to fighting.”

Bellatrix eyed her mistrustfully. “And that’s why your side will fall,” she sneered. “You prefer _peace._ Peace makes you weak.”

“Not at all,” Pandora countered. “Opting for peace makes you strong.”

“Stupid witch. You make me sick.” Bellatrix was about to Apparate away when Pandora called out to her.

“Remember what I said about power. I foresee a great deal of pain in your future, should you continue to follow him.”

Bellatrix gave her a final look of loathing and spun on the spot, vanishing with a small _pop._

Pandora watched the empty space where Bellatrix had stood. “I’ll see you on the other side,” she murmured. Turning, she walked through the wards, feeling their welcoming touch wash over her. Moments later, she heard Xeno’s voice, calling her name. He had sensed her presence. She began to run.  
  


* * *

**_J  
uly 1981_ **

Pandora wove her way through Knockturn Alley, headed towards a little-known apothecary. It had a reputation for selling less-than-savoury items to less-than-savoury customers, but this had never put her off visiting. In fact, the shop’s reputation was what first attracted, and then kept, her patronage. The more popular apothecaries tended to shy away from stocking many of the types of items and ingredients she sought for her experiments, whereas this particular establishment was more... _relaxed_ about such matters; and if an item she wanted wasn’t in stock, the proprietor was more than happy to get it in for her.

Having reached her destination, she pushed the door open and stepped into the dingy interior, collecting a shopping basket from the stack near the entry, and began perusing the shelves. The proprietor soon appeared at her side and brushed her elbow in a way that made her feel as if spiders were crawling over her skin.

“Good afternoon, madam. Can I be of any assistance today?”

Pandora gave the man a sweet smile that masked her inner feelings about him. “Good afternoon, Mr. Linoge. I believe I will be able to find all I need, thank you.”

Linoge nodded but didn’t move away immediately, continuing to appraise her and preventing any forward movement on her part. Just when she thought she might need to retreat, they were interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat impatiently. His head snapped up and his eyes widened at the sight of his new customer, causing Pandora to turn curiously to see who could inspire such a reaction.

“Madam Lestrange—how wonderful to see you again—very sorry to have kept you waiting—how may I be of service—?” The proprietor hurried towards Bellatrix, bowing obsequiously while she stared at him in contempt. 

“My order. I received an owl. Where is it?” she snapped, her head tipped back slightly so she could look down her nose at him. 

“Yes madam, of course. I’ll fetch it right away.” 

Linoge bowed once more and scuttled off, leaving the two women staring at each other across the aisle. 

“He fears you,” Pandora stated. 

“Everyone fears me,” Bellatrix replied haughtily. 

“What do _you_ fear, Bellatrix?”

The dark-haired woman threw back her head and laughed. “What do _I_ fear? You’ve been inhaling too many potions fumes, Lovegood.”

“But you _do_ fear something,” Pandora said. “You fear being replaced.”

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes, her previous amusement replaced by a look of warning. “You know nothing.”

“Oh, but I do. I warned you once before about the illusion of power. Things are changing. There are rumours of his impending downfall. I urge you to get out while you still can. You can change your future, Bellatrix.”

“You _dare_ —!” Bellatrix whipped out her wand, pointing it at Pandora’s chest. Her face was contorted with anger. 

At that moment, Linoge returned with a large bundle in his hands and rushed to stand between them. “ _Please_ , Madam Lestrange, I beg of you—no duelling in my shop! The last thing I need is the Aurors sniffing about,” he pleaded. Offering the bundle to her, he continued, “There will be no charge for your order. Please take it with my compliments.”

Pandora watched with interest as Bellatrix considered, her eyes darting between the two of them. Finally, she tucked her wand back into its holster, snatched the bundle from the proprietor, and spun on her heel, heading for the exit without so much as a word of thanks to him.

“His power is coming to an end,” Pandora called after her retreating back. “The illusion will soon shatter, and with it, everything you know.”  
  


* * *

**_November 1990_ **

Her small cell was cold. Always cold. The thin uniform all prisoners were issued did nothing to keep out the chill. So Bellatrix paced and stomped to keep warm, moving around as much as she could. It had been—how long? She had no idea anymore. At first, she had etched lines in the stone walls to mark out the days. But as time wore on and her mind began to fracture, she started to lose track. Eventually, she gave up. Her master would come for her. One day.

Some days, when the waiting was almost too hard to bear, she would remind herself that her isolation would be a small price to pay when he finally returned. “Never thought I’d feel this way, strange to be alone,” she hummed as she paced. 

He would reward her unwavering loyalty, and they would go down together in the history books. She ran her hand along a section of the wall, where she had etched her words of devotion to him. “We will be together, carved in stone, carved in stone—”

“I warned you.”

Bellatrix spun to face the voice and cackled. “Merlin, I’m seeing things. Lovegood, of all people?” She turned back to the wall, caressing the words once again.

“You aren’t seeing things, Bellatrix. I’m really here.”

She turned back to face the hallucination. “No, you’re not. I haven’t had a visitor since I was thrown in this cell.”

“Well, I suppose I’m _not_ really here. But in a way, I am. I was experimenting with a new spell, you see. It went a bit awry.” Pandora sighed regretfully.

It took a moment for the words to sink in before realisation dawned. Bellatrix began to laugh. Dropping ungracefully to the floor, she leaned against the wall as her body shook with mirth. “You mean to tell me—” she gasped, “—you’re _dead?_ ”

“Yes, I’m afraid so,” Pandora nodded.

Bellatrix continued to laugh. Every time she glanced over at the corner of her cell, the sight of the witch’s ethereal form staring benignly at her would start the giggles anew. Finally, she managed to control herself and sat upright, wiping her face.

“What do you want with me?” she asked scornfully. 

“I wondered if you were still alive and sane,” Pandora replied. “While one of those things is immediately evident, the other is questionable.”

“If you expected me to be sane after all this time, you’re as batty as me,” Bellatrix snorted. What year is it, anyway?”

“November of 1990.”

Nine years? Well, that was surprising. She’d been sure she had been here for longer than that. She felt like she had been in Azkaban all her life and would have believed it; if not for the memories of before.

“I’m sorry to see you here,” Pandora said. “I did predict this outcome, as you’ll recall. But I had a feeling you wouldn’t heed me.”

“So that’s why you’re here? To gloat?” Bellatrix asked, amused. “To remind me that _power is an illusion?”_

“I don’t need to remind you, Bellatrix. Deep in your heart, you already know.”

The temper that sat below the surface of her mind flared to life at Pandora’s words. “His power is real! My master will return to finish what he started, and I will stand at his right hand once again!” She picked up her empty water cup and hurled it at the apparition. “Fuck off, stupid dead witch! Go to hell!” It bounced off the wall with a clank.

Pandora sighed and shook her head. “I will return,” she promised before fading away.  
  


* * *

  
Pandora returned several times over the following years. She would irritate Bellatrix with her idle chatter and calm, composed demeanour. Regardless of how harshly the dark-haired witch cursed her visitor or how cruel her insults, the ghost never responded with anything other than an indulgent smile and soft words.

Eventually, Bellatrix had to admit that she enjoyed the visits, irregular as they were - they broke up the neverending tedium of imprisonment in the isolation wing, and silenced the thousand voices that chattered and screamed both inside her mind and within the walls. One day, her curiosity got the better of her, and in the middle of Pandora’s long, detailed description of something she called Nargles, Bellatrix interrupted, “What exactly happened with that spell of yours? The one that killed you?”

Pandora blinked, appearing surprised at the question. “Oh,” she mused. “I can hardly remember now… let me see. Oh, yes — I was trying to perfect a spell that would release a large burst of flowers - as a shield, you know - and I’m afraid it hit a jar of powdered erumpent horn that was in my potions cupboard. It caused quite a large explosion.”

“So you blew yourself up? Bit stupid, don’t you think?” Bellatrix said. “I thought you were supposed to be good at spellwork.”

“Oh, I am,” Pandora assured. “At least, I _was._ It was just an unfortunate accident.”

“A _stupid_ accident,” Bellatrix insisted.

“What’s done can’t be undone,” Pandora shrugged. “I just hope my unfortunate end doesn’t stifle my daughter’s natural curiosity. She saw it happen. Luna’s a dear wee thing, so kind and gentle. I’m proud to see her grow, even if I can’t be there for her.”

The strange feeling of tightness in Bellatrix’s chest was unwelcome. She refused to consider that she might be feeling— _Sweet Salazar!_ — _sympathy_ for Pandora, and for the motherless brat. She had been in here far too long. At this rate, when the Dark Lord _did_ return, she would not be in a fit state to serve him. Glaring, she picked up her cup and threw it, as was her usual way of banishing her visitor. 

“I’ll be going now. Goodbye, Bellatrix.”

* * *

**  
_January 1996_ **

Bellatrix was woken by a shattering explosion that made the whole building tremble. Screams followed, then several more explosions. Her heart leapt. He had arrived! Her master had come at last, and he would free her!

“I’m here, my Lord! I’m here!” she screamed in delight. 

A short time later, the outer wall of her cell burst outwards, coating her in a thick layer of dust that blinded her. The fresh air that rushed in, blowing fiercely due to how high up she was, quickly cleared the area around her, revealing a mess of brick from a gaping hole in the side of the fortress. Bellatrix inhaled deeply, taking in the salty aroma. She had never smelled anything so sweet. She looked up into the inky blackness of the night, howling her triumph.  
  


* * *

**_June 1996_ **

Rarely in life, or in death, had Pandora felt truly angry, but tonight, she was furious. Had grown adults - _twelve_ of them - really attacked Hogwarts students? And had her darling Luna really been one of those students? She could hardly believe it.

“What is _wrong_ with you, Bellatrix? What would compel you to attack children? To try to _kill_ them?”

“Spare me your lectures, Lovegood. We did as we were ordered. And we disappointed him, thanks to that bastard Dumbledore!” Picking up a nearby vase, Bellatrix angrily hurled it at Pandora’s ethereal form. It passed through her and struck the wall behind, where it shattered.

“But they’re _children!”_

_“But they’re children!”_ Bellatrix repeated in a high-pitched, mocking voice. “They are enemies of the Dark Lord! He will not spare his enemies, and neither will we!”

“Your own nephew is the same age,” Pandora said quietly. “Would it not pain you to see him targeted by people stronger and more powerful than he?”

“My nephew has been given a great honour! He should be proud to serve my master, and to die for him if necessary!” 

“I told you power corrupts. Look what your pursuit of it has done to you, Bellatrix. You’re willing to harm children, to offer up your own blood as a sacrificial lamb. It _will_ be your undoing, and soon.”

Bellatrix threw back her head and laughed. “Never! We will triumph, and you’ll finally learn that his power is real!”

Pandora stared at Bellatrix with eyes full of sad reproach. “You cannot be saved. I see that now.” She vanished from sight, leaving Bellatrix alone.  
  


* * *

 ** _  
_** **_May 2 1998_ **

  
Explosions rocked the castle and surrounds of Hogwarts, causing debris to rain down over the teeming bodies. Pandora had watched in horror, powerless, as Voldemort’s death eaters quickly tore down the protective enchantments before swarming onto the grounds. Those who had elected to fight ran bravely to meet them, wands held aloft, curses and hexes flying from their lips.

As combatant after combatant fell and the melee raged on, Pandora's despair deepened. She knew her darling Luna was here, fighting beside her friends, willing to lay down her life in exchange for their freedom from the madman’s tyranny. While she was proud to see her daughter showing such courage, a part of her wished she could take Luna away from the chaos and destruction, protect her, somehow. But she was merely a spirit, and Xeno was still trapped in Azkaban. All she could do was watch and hope.

Now there was something happening in the Great Hall. Pandora could feel the heightened emotions of the living emanating from the partially destroyed building. She hurried as quickly as she could in her ethereal form to the source of the commotion, floating carelessly through peoples’ bodies, heedless of their momentary discomfort.

Finally, she was able to see what was happening. Bellatrix was there, fighting three students at once - Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley, and—! _“Luna!”_

But there was no way her daughter would hear her, no way to intervene and get her away. Bellatrix raised her wand and fired a dark curse that missed Ginny by inches. Pandora let out an involuntary scream.

Suddenly, there was a cry from across the room, and Molly Weasley was there, bearing down on the scene like a Valkyrie charging into battle. She pushed the younger witches out of the way, sending them sprawling, and engaged Bellatrix with a volley of hexes. The dark-haired witch cackled madly and returned fire. Their duel was fierce, with neither woman holding back, each determined to kill the other. Pandora found herself behind Molly, circling her, tracking her movements. She hoped that somehow she could lend the woman strength.

“What will happen to your children when I’ve killed you?” Bellatrix taunted.

A moment of divine clarity struck Pandora, one she had never experienced before, either living or dead. She knew exactly what Bellatrix’s next movements would be, and what she must do to prevent any further tragedy. “The time has passed for choices,” she whispered.

Channeling every ounce of what power she still had, she reached out her hand to guide Molly’s wand arm, to adjust her aim slightly. The movement was infinitesimal, but it was enough. The red-haired woman’s curse shot under her opponent's raised arm and struck her chest - a direct hit. The shock on Bellatrix’s face was almost comical, her features frozen. Her body was suspended in the air, and Pandora could feel the spectators around them collectively holding their breath.

Then, with a sigh, Bellatrix fell.  
  


* * *

  
Bellatrix, too, was struck with a moment of clarity when Molly’s curse landed, although her realisation was simpler: she had lost. She had failed.

Aware that she had been struck a fatal blow, she desperately tried to seek out her master’s face, to look upon him one last time, but her vision was blurred. Distantly, she could hear his scream of outrage echoing through the hall. _I can’t seem to see you, my Lord, though my eyes are open wide._ Everything went dark and silent as her consciousness faded.

Some unknown time later, she awoke in a strangely bright place, feeling as if she was floating. Had she survived, somehow? 

“Bellatrix.”

She turned towards the voice and screamed in frustration. “Merlin’s balls! You again? Why must you continually plague me?”

“Don’t you know where you are?” Pandora asked, ignoring the question.

Bellatrix frowned. She _didn’t_ know where she was - not that she would admit it. “I was down, but now I’m flying,” she replied. And indeed, she _did_ feel like she was soaring, despite the fact her feet seemed to be on the ground.

Pandora nodded. “Yes, you are. Straight across the great divide. This is limbo, the place where spirits come before moving on.” She gestured to the strange white emptiness around them, then held out a hand. “It is time to go, Bellatrix.”

“Go _where?”_ she asked, disgusted with herself at the slight hysteria that had crept into her voice. “I’m not going anywhere! I’ll wait here for my Lord to find me!”

“He’s not going to find you.” 

“Of course he will, you insufferable bitch! He—”

“—has been defeated.” Pandora regarded her blandly. “He and Harry Potter engaged in battle, and the boy triumphed.”

“No! You’re lying!” Bellatrix rushed at her, fingers hooked into claws, intent on tearing the other woman’s eyes out. But instead of disfiguring her, Bellatrix was thrown back as Pandora swept her arm in a wide arc, although their bodies made no contact.

“He is defeated, Bellatrix. Voldemort is no more. He is dust and ash forever.”

She felt desperate. It couldn’t be true! A part of him would remain, and they would be reunited, if not in the living world, then in the next. “I’ll see him on—”

“—the other side? No, you won’t. Voldemort committed a heinous act. He tore his soul into pieces and secreted them inside objects he coveted. But all of those objects were destroyed, and with it, the fragments of his soul. So when the curse meant for Harry Potter rebounded and struck him instead, he had no soul left to carry him into the afterlife. He simply… became nothing.”

“It’s not true!” Bellatrix howled. She dropped to her knees but felt no sting as they hit the ground. She tugged at her hair, but there was no sense of pain under her scalp. Her face contorted, and suddenly, she was sobbing wildly. She was still here, but he was gone. _Dust and ash forever,_ Pandora had said. She would never see him again, never feel his touch or hear his voice. What kind of afterlife would it be without him there?

A gentle caress on her shoulder made her jerk up into a sitting position. She glared up at Pandora, who was smiling benignly down at her. “It will be okay, Bellatrix.”

“Why won’t you just _go away?”_ Bellatrix looked wildly around for a projectile she could throw, a weapon she could strike out with, but there was... Nothing. Nothing but mist and whiteness.

“It’s time to go,” Pandora said again. “It is unfortunate that it has come to this, but I’m sure you knew this would eventually be your fate.”

“I knew nothing of the sort! That bitch Weasley got in a lucky shot.” Bellatrix folded her arms across her chest and scowled.

“You were arrogant, Bellatrix. You relied on the strength of your magic, to the detriment of your defensive abilities. You were so sure you were more powerful, and it became your undoing.”

“You almost sound like you’re disappointed about that,” Bellatrix snorted.

“Oh, I’m not. It had to happen. It was the only way. You were completely corrupted by his power, utterly taken in by the illusion he fed you. You would only have brought ruin to more lives, had you been allowed to live.”

Bellatrix allowed her hands to drop to her side as her suspicion grew. “What do you mean by that?” she hissed.

“I guided Molly’s hand. It was extremely difficult and weakened me a great deal. But I was able to make sure her curse found its mark.”

The shock was so great that for a few moments, Bellatrix couldn’t say a word. A tidal wave of emotions engulfed her. First fury, then a sense of betrayal—how could Pandora have done such a thing?—then resignation, and finally, admiration. She hadn’t thought the other witch would be capable of such an act.

“So much for peace,” she sneered, once she found her voice again. “You struck a killing blow in the end.”

Pandora just gave another one of her infuriating smiles and shook her head. “I am not capable of such an act in this form, even if I wanted to. I simply channeled my energy to lend Molly strength so she could end the duel quickly.” 

She stepped forward, laying a hand on Bellatrix’s arm. “She would have bested you regardless. She is a powerful witch in her own right and was fighting for her children. True, unconditional love is the only type of power that is _not_ illusory. With that kind of love comes the desire to protect. It is unselfish and pure, directed outwards and intended to lift others up instead of oneself.”

Bellatrix wanted more than anything to argue, to continue to fight, but suddenly she was incredibly weary. The strength was leeching from her, making her feel untethered.

“Your body is on the verge of expiring,” Pandora explained, seeming to sense her sudden distress. “It really is time to go.”

“But—” Bellatrix cast her eyes about. “We’ve been here an age. You’re wrong - I can still get back, still return to my body!”

“Time works differently here. It may feel like an age, but in the living world, mere seconds have passed,” Pandora countered. “And your body is far too damaged to withstand the curse you were struck with.” She held out her hand once again. “Come.”

Desperate to delay the inevitable, Bellatrix tried to think of anything that might give the other witch pause. An idea came to her, and she seized it. “If you take me on, you’ll go on, too! You’ll never see your daughter or husband again!”

“I know,” Pandora said. She looked sad but resigned. “But I have accepted this. I cannot stay forever. And besides, my primary duty was to watch over you. Luna and Xeno were not lost like you were. Take my hand, Bellatrix.”

Against her better judgement, Bellatrix complied. Although she could faintly feel the weight of Pandora’s hand, there was no humanness to it. Her touch was neither warm nor cold - it was just _there._ The brightness around them seemed to intensify as the mist in front of them drew back to reveal a door with swirling colours beyond. Now the colours were drawing her in, calling her forward. She imagined she could hear voices, a thousand voices. Whispering, inviting her in.

Just before she stepped through the doorway and became part of the ether, a final thought flitted across Bellatrix’s mind.

_It’s all an illusion_. 


End file.
